


War Machine.

by AnonIngram



Series: Holy Trinity [1]
Category: Nandroids
Genre: Action, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Dieselpunk, Imperialism, Magic, Mecha, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Steampunk, Thriller, Trench Warfare, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29635002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonIngram/pseuds/AnonIngram
Series: Holy Trinity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177463
Kudos: 1





	War Machine.

Snow blasted mountain peaks at the very throat of the world, located high above the Capital city of the Holy Empire only reachable after a two day trip past cliffs with sheer drops, and across several old stone arch bridges covered in sheets of ice and week long blizzards. A six wheeled armored automobile crossed onto the bridge made of gilded stone dangling over a deep frozen ravine with a looming gothic monastery on the other side. It blotted out the sky as they approached, it’s form striking even fear into even the greatest demon. Entering the monastery gates covered in carvings of angels and demons in eternal combat told with gold and silver inlays layer the stones, level by level. The massive iron wrought gates close behind the car as it drives around the bubbling fountain filled with steaming hot water in the center of the roundabout. Stopping in front of a waiting nun, the car churns and spews black smoke as it idles. She opens the cold car door, bowing to the man stepping out, his armor made of the purest steel adorned with a golden cross upon his chest plate. His cloak tinted black and red, swaying on his back a sword swung covered in bandages, multiple eyes opened and observed the nun. He tips his Watchtower hat down in greeting, lit candles line the brim of the hat, his steel boots clacking on the stone road.  
“Sir, I hope there were no issues getting here.” The nun said to the man as he observed the monastery in the distance.  
“No, I had no trouble getting here. It does seem lovely up here as I have been told,” The man smiled while pulling out papers from his satchel. “My Requisition papers, stamped and sealed by the Grand Lords”. 

He showed her the wax crest sealing the tan parchment, she nods leading him into the monastery proper. The main chapel doors opened as they approached and the sound of hymns rode the wind lulling him with the Lord’s prayer and glory. Pews lined the massive chapel lit by only candescent bulbs in chandeliers overhead. A large mural of Jesus Christ on a cross high above the altar. The sunlight coming through the stained glass casting a ghastly glow upon our savior in the low orange light. As he walked down the aisles of pews to the front, a man wearing an engineering jumpsuit sat in prayer. He ignored the man as he took in the sights and sounds of the chapel, when he was done admiring the glory of the Son, the Father, and the Holy spirit, the man clad in armor cleared his throat trying to get the man's attention.  
“Are you, Doctor Wilhelm von Sterling?” The man looked upon his chest plate, his soft aging eyes squinted behind thick round glasses, mouth slightly agape under a grey mustache. The man in armor smiled down at Sterling holding his hand out, waiting for a hand shake or similar greeting.  
“Do you mind if I prattle your ear, I have important business to discuss.” He held the scroll for Sterling to take.  
“I don’t mind Lord Inquisitor, this way.” Sterling said with exacerbated breath standing up from the pew, ignoring most of his greetings, took the scroll shoving it in his oil stained pants. The Inquisitor dismissed the nun who bowed in response, he followed closely behind Sterling as they descended further into the monastery, passing nuns and monks doing their daily business and prayer. Incandescent bulbs slowly turned into purple candles in scones as they got further into the dark underbelly of the monastery, spider webs lined the ceilings above them, below them.

“Bid me Sterling, but wherefore hath an Advisor to the Kaiser, unlock the means to make life, and turn on his country when his countrymen need him most?” The Inquisitor said with a sarcastic tone towards the back of Sterlings head to pass the time. Sterling turned around giving the Inquisitor a glare.  
“I have no time to speak on such matters, what should stay in the past, should stay there, Lord Inquisitor.” Sterling scoffed as he turned swiftly around, quickening his pace as the Inquisitor merely shrugged in reply.  
“By the way, what do you call these things, the living weapons I have heard so much about?” The Inquisitor asked as his voice echoed down the dirty marble halls. Sterling scratched his facial hair as he was in thought.  
“Not quite sure yet, the name the Kaiser gave them is Iron Daughters, but I felt they were better being used for the word of God… I was figuring Nundroid perhaps.” Sterling lit a lantern from his pocket, using a candle from the wall, to light up a dark staircase that led into the bowels of the monastery.  
“This way, please do mind the step.” Holy purple flame led them deeper under the great stone construct. Minutes passed by before they reached the end of the stairs, the slight whisper of a diseased light emitted forth from the bottom of the door frame.  
“This is the place,… more or less.” Sterling wheezed in a quiet tone. He pushed the door open as the Inquisitor's eyes adjusted, he looked upon a large workshop of tools, chemicals, and vast machines. Cast in ghostly green light from the lamps above, were a massive amount of inventions. Machines of war and famine, great machinations of the bible’s predicted cataclysm and hellfire brought to reality. Steel beasts he only seen from a distance used by the Imperial Reich in skirmishes with the Northlandic Federation abominations.  
“To witness such iron monstrosities up close, I can taste the fear of being hosed down by it’s machine gun fire. It's very palpable...” The Inquisitor said, rubbing the surface of the riveted armor plating of a tank, smelling the oil wafting into his nostrils. Sterling paid the man no mind as he looked and prodded his collection, he was busy preparing his magnum opus, his greatest invention to date, the very thing the Inquisitor came for. The Inquisitor lost in the vast amount of weapons, vehicles, and death machines, he was frankly inspired and in awe like a child in a candy store.  
“Inquisitor, I have it here for you.” Sterling called to the Inquisitor amongst the stacks of Iron tools and scraps. 

He came back over to Sterling shortly looking at the several boxes laid before him on the three metal gurneys, a humanoid female on the middle gurney, her body made of Steel and brass, copper wiring moved below her tempered glass cheeks. Her chest was open from two flaps retracting to each side of her ribcage revealing a heart of gears and a steel core, copper wires led to the contraption. Sterling was pouring diesel into several tanks around the ‘Heart’ before closing a red cap located in the middle. He depressed a button, making the heart spurt and sprinkle diesel from it’s gears before it fluttered to life, as if God breathed his blessing into the machine. Gears turned and whirled, springs compressed and unfolded with speed he couldn’t keep up with his eyes, locking lugs slowly chugged in tune with crystal diodes as if she was a giant clock. Sterling did some finer adjustments when her heart began to spin in her chest, before he softly pressed it into a small cavity where it gained a velocity faster than speeding a bullet. It began to pulsate green. The flaps on the casing slammed shut, as she sputtered to life, her eyes flicked open, ghastly green smoke and electricity casted around inside her pupils before the whites of the eye receptors turned a hue of green. She pulled herself from the table, the copper wiring inside contracted and pulled as she moved. When she looked down at her naked form however, she let out an ear piercing scream not even the Veteran witch hunter that the Inquisitor was could handle. Sterling patted her shoulder trying to calm her down, but it was to no avail before he shoved a blue nun’s uniform into her face, did she quiet down some.  
“By the Lord’s holy hell fire, what are you trying to do Sterling!?” The Inquisitor screamed, his ears trickling out small droplets of blood, looking at the old man whose glasses were now cracked.  
“What?” Sterling shouted in response, the only noise he heard was the buzzing of his ears trying to not go more deaf than they already were.  
“Jesus christ, what was that!?” The Inquisitor screamed back, one of his eyes watering, he stuck a finger in his ear gingerly feeling around. Looking upon his silver and gold gauntlet were clumps of his own coagulated blood, he sighed reaching into his satchel, he produced a cotton ball, ripped it apart, and shoved them into his ears. He took a few moments to notice the machine tried to talk to him, but he only was getting static.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot hear you mind speaking up?” The Inquisitor howled in mere pain, patting his ears, before he spotted Sterling digging around in a few drawers at his work bench. Grabbing a yellow elixir from his satchel he took the cap off and drank some, before pushing the wooden cork back. The pain dulled but his hearing would take a bit to come back, so he unclasped his hands from his ears. Looking back to the machine now fully dressed in a nun’s garb, it was observing him with curious intent. Ignoring it for now he took a few minutes for his hearing to readjust, as Sterling came back over with several small screwdrivers he lifted the mechanical woman’s head up, and began to work on her throat. The Inquisitor took out the cotton, now a healthy covering in pus and blood, throwing them into the trash bin, or what he thought was one at the end of the workbench. Groggy from having his eardrums burst, the drug he drank slowly brought back his hearing, he lumbered over to the gurney again.

“Sterling, you should've warned me that would have happened.” He felt his jaw tingling, which didn’t subside as he hoped when he spoke his tongue was numb.  
“She is a holy weapon, as ordered, so I packed her with a few weapons, blame your Grand Lords.” Sterling not caring for whatever retort the Inquisitor had, ultimately just kept to his work as he adjusted her.  
“A weapon that looks like a frail girl?” The Inquisitor scoffed at him, as if this would be useful against the giant machines that were in war with hulking behemoths of ungodly taint and putrid stench, some of which were in this very workshop.  
“Frail? She is a weapon, a tool of God’s divine justice.” Sterling smiled while several dirty tools were held in his teeth as he worked on the girl.  
“Well, what is it’s name anyway?” The Inquisitor asked, grabbing a round metallic object off the workbench observing it.  
“I have named her Trinity, the God’s hand, as I said before God’s Judgement brought to the land.” Sterling exclaimed nearly dropping more tools as he gestured upwards to the heavens.

“And why… exactly leave the Imperial Reich, you were a war hero.” The Inquisitor tired of these games asked him in a bemused tone.  
“The Reich simply uses my machines to slaughter towns and people, yet they only have tested and kept only a handful of my daughters, 7 in total. They view them as a tool, while your masters view them as God’s Divine Will, same as I. The Kaiser did not agree to my vision from God, so I ran with the one model I could get, the only thing I could take.” He stood up having finished with her voice modulator, he stood proud over the machine breaking into joyous hysterical laughter.  
“Speak my daughter, let us hear your divine voice, speak God's Holy Will!” Sterling screamed to the heavens, the Inquisitor thought he was using God as an excuse to further his abominations, if this truly was a weapon to be feared by all. He waited in silence before the mechanical woman was willing to speak to him, her voice soft and angelic.  
“Greetings, I am Trinity, Will of the one true God, but…” She began to weep, looking away. “I can’t believe my father would let me be seen naked by a man I have not even been engaged to, who will take me in now!?”  
“What is this machine spouting, Sterling?” The Inquisitor went into a panic, this was no mere machine, but an Advanced Intelligence, not even blessed in holy oil, nor wearing parchments of Holy seals. How could the Grand Lords accept the help of such heretical blasphemy.

“Trinity, calm down. This man is of high standing, he is here to take you with him, no need to worry…” Sterling comforted his machine, the Inquisitor looked on with barely contained malice, and was liking the idea of gutting Sterling with his Holy weapon, and hanging his rotting corpse outside the monastery from a cross.  
“Is this true, sir?” Trinity asked, jumping off the gurney, rushing to grab the armored gauntlets of the Inquisitor.  
“Err- I have been merely ordered to bring you before his Holiness for reassignment.” The Inquisitor ripped his hands out of the machine's grip, but it didn’t seem to sadden her as a smile spread across her brass and iron face.  
“So I am to appear before the pope himself, and to spread the word of the Lord to the heathens and heretics who plague the land?” Trinity exclaimed loudly as her eyes grew a brighter green, the Inquisitor took a few steps back perplexed by this thing, he had survived hail of gunfire, magic, and the executioner's blade time and time again, but guns or swords never really talked to their owner.

“S-Sterling, do you have anything to actually give this... Trinity, to defend herself?” The Inquisitor asked nearly slipping in calling her a machine again, if it could burst a man’s ear drums with a simple scream, what else could it do provoked?  
“Oh right, forgot. Let me find some cutters, the other things the Grand Lords ordered are in those wooden boxes there.” Sterling said putting his glasses down, heading back into the workbenches tool drawers. Trinity turned back to the Inquisitor, inspecting his armor.  
“What is your name then, if we’re to be destined to scour the land for enemies of God?” She asked stepping closer, looking up at him as he stood nearly two heads taller than her.  
“Me?” The Inquisitor pointed to himself, a nervous grin sewn to his face, as he sweat vigorously. Trinity nodded, her swirling green eyes with her curious expression added to the effect of his armor beginning to get hotter, he frankly wanted to leave, but disobeying a Grand Lord's order meant death.

“I am Lord Inquisitor Grantz Heinrich deus Devores, Veteran Witchhunter of the Inquisitorial order of the Holy Empire.” He bowed as he had practiced countless times, and out of habit when introducing himself to anyone below himself, to show humility in the face of one of God’s servants.  
“A Lord? I-I-I am terribly sorry for before, if I knew you were a Lord I would have been more careful!” She screams out loud causing Grantz to flinch back from the surprise attack from earlier, she grabs his pauldrons pulling herself. “Are you alright? I am trained in basic first aid, but sadly it’s only from the Imperial Reich, so I am not sure if it’s very helpful here.”  
“I am quite alright, please stop touching me.” Grantz grabs her hand and forces her off and backs up a bit. Shortly Sterling comes back over, large metal bolt cutters in his hands.

“Sorry for the delay, they were buried under 37mm shells, and I had to take them out, and set them to the side. Now let’s get this open…” He cuts the locks off the boxes labeled explosive ordnance, chucking the wood cover to the floor after setting the bolt cutters on the gurney. In the left wooden box was a rare Hotchkiss-Gatling Rotating Cannon prototype, polished brass casing, brass barrel shroud, with gold and varnished oak crank. Engraved into the gun were depictions of angels, damnation and God himself, inscripted upon the barrel shroud on each side was embellished with silver, “Dei nomine nos perducat Infernus et iudicium ad omnes peccatores coram nobis.” The gun was small enough to be carried and operated by a single man, but needed a crew of two to reload the weapon. In the boxes on the right were 13mm bullets in brass casings, with depictions of what ammo type they were, HE was marked in green, AP was marked in blue, Grapeshot was marked with red, and STMC (Silver Tipped Mercury Charged) had silver bullets packed inside the casings. Last box in the middle contained several stick grenades marked with the explosive symbol on the metal casings, the pin located at the bottom of the wooden shaft merely only needed to be twisted off, the pin pulled, and then the grenade to be thrown. However the grenades box was not labeled in the Italic Latin of the Holy Empire’s language, but of the Imperial Reichs Deutschfalken language.

“Reich grenades, Sterling?” The Inquisitor turned around with a single grenade in hand to show him.  
“Oh yes, I managed to escape with them, in case they sent war machines after me as I fled, I figured I could just give some to you to use, you’d find them more useful than I.” Sterling shouted from across the room as he was checking leather straps and belts. He comes back over carrying a leather rig, and belt with some bags, setting them down over the boxes.  
“Here, you can use this as well. I already customized it to fit her body, and it should come in handy for helping her use the weapon by herself.” Sterling said fitting the Leather webbing over her garb, and fastening it down, double checking to make sure she could move, but it still fit snugly. After the leather was perfect, he began loading the rounds into 10 round stripper clips, before handing them to her to be put in the bags on her belt, able to hold 50 of each ammo type in the four bags she had at her waist. He shoves three grenades onto the back of her belt, using the belt clips on the end of the grenades, he circled around her to triple check the leather webbing didn’t snag, snap, or stretch.

“Well, seems fine, anyway did you want to test this outside?” Sterling asked, as he got a hand trolley for the remaining items.  
"Yes, I would like to see what she can do." Grantz agreed with vigor, grabbing a few boxes of ammunition, and setting it on the trolley.  
"Very well, but I have no idea how this works." Trinity poked the barrel shroud.  
"Well, practice makes perfect." Sterling wheezed out as the old man threw another crate onto the trolley.  
"Wait, how will we get this all upstairs?” Grantz asked, eyeing the trolley.  
“Upstairs? We don’t need to go upstairs just yet, there is a testing range this way,” Sterling pointed to large sheets of corrugated steel. “I don’t really use it, it’s been here since the 100 year war, well… roughly 450 years ago, and no one has used it since, so I just tend to throw junk in front of it.”

They push aside the large metal pieces to access a red bunker door, which has been cut off of power, with the help of Trinity, they push it open. Inside is dustier than most crypts the Inquisitor has explored, in front of peeling yellow paint lines was a poorly maintained sandbag line, facing towards several wooden and taxidermy targets.  
“Well… this place has seen better days.” Grantz comments on the sad state of this once glorious firing range.  
“It has… but it’ll be useful for now, anyway. Let’s start.” Sterling moved a gurney inside, and began explaining to Trinity how to operate and work the machine.  
“Unlike the Gatling gun the Holy Empire currently uses, this uses an experimental Hotchkiss firing pin system, so instead of a firing pin behind each barrel, it uses one located to the right,” He points with a screwdriver. “It decreases the weight, and maintenance time, however if the single bolt breaks you cannot fire the gun until said firing pin is replaced.”  
The Inquisitor watches from the sidelines, as the weapon is strapped to her webbing so she can freely let go of it, and it just swings to her side.  
“Now grab it by the handle and use it to aim the barrels, use the straps to keep the gun balanced, like a third hand. The hand on the crank is there to merely assist the strap keep balance and fire the gun. If any hands fail it is harder to aim and fire without there being issues, so be careful on that.” Trinity nods taking everything in as if she was a dish sponge. 

The Inquisitor wakes up after the constant droning and teachings slow to a minimum.  
“Now for the fun part, bullets,” Sterling grabs a box from the trolley. “Take a stripper clip, and load it on top of the feed ramp, like I showed you.”  
Trinity grabs a STMC stripper clip from the bag, and pulls open the feed cover, before pressing down the clip with a click.  
“Good, STMC is useful for anything Lycan, Vampiric, and Demonic if you know the demon's true name, if you don’t… well you’re dead anyway. Now aim the barrels in the rough direction of that… bear there.” Sterling excitedly points to a taxidermy bear whose skin is falling off in a moldy slop. Trinity lifts the weapon, pointing the ready and waiting gun towards the target, it’s pulsating cartridges of judgement wait for deliverance to target. She slowly begins to crank the handle, and picks up speed. After one rotation a hot slug of explosive silver is sent to the bear, exploding it’s dry rotting flesh outwards with a pop sending molten silver outwards and hardens into the cavity stopping the healing factor of some creatures, well if Mister bear was a werewolf.

“That was fun!” Trinity declared with her giddy diesel pumping faster in her heart, turning the barrels to face both Sterling and Grantz with a live round loaded, Sterling grabbed the barrel shroud, and pointed it back to the range.  
“Please be careful, that is not a toy,” Sterling patted her, before letting go of the barrel. “Do not go waving that around, that’s how you or someone else gets hurt.”  
“Not bad, I doubt that would actually kill a Lycan however, as they tend to hunt in packs, so you would need to keep up the attack, or they would slaughter your squad.” The Inquisitor amused, as if training a young serf for combat.  
"Really? Can you teach me everything?" Trinity let go of the heavy gun, it fell to her side as she ran up to Grantz, looking up to him as a puppy begging for food.  
"Fine, just don't slobber on me." He pushed her away, grabbing his tome from his belt. Time passed as they studied and practiced, all through the night they put effort in, only to be interrupted by an explosion going off upstairs.

\---------------------------------------

Imperial Palace, Burlin, Imperial Reich, March 19th, 21:45

Men marched below in the spotlights of the square in the epicenter of the large Imperial palace, spires of stone shot to the heavens to conquer the sky, red flags fluttered about to show those who looked on the glorious double headed griffin, green shrubs adorned with flowers of bright blues and reds line the outer walls. Mechanical miracles danced in tandem with the men, unaware of his presence as he stood high in his quarters behind stained glass, observing them. They were his finest men, no army could best, or even hope to match his skill and intelligence when it came to war. While the Northlanders rotted and festered in draconian and barbaric ways, the Holy Empire to the south only partakes in ancient steam and some decrepit fangled god, the Glorious Reich however has harnessed the power of steel and diesel, none could stop them.

Turning to look at the map on the wall, borders of countries barely able contained stood on the brink of war. Skirmishes along the border between the Reich and Northlandic Federation told him that they outnumbered them with abominations and troops. Frustrated he slammed his mechanical hand into the wall made of purple velvet silk and gold embroidery, if his hand was still made of weak flesh it would have hurt, looking down at the metal digits flexing in red light from new tungsten light bulbs. His outburst of violence awakened his companion, one of the traitors' inventions he took as a trophy after burning that madman's home to the ground. Sterlings Iron Daughter, Charity, a small mechanical woman, reprogrammed to be his lovely wife and maid, who followed his every command to the very letter. She was his best soldier, assassin and lover, unmatched by any machine, woman, or man.

"Something wrong, love?" She watched him from bed, her red eyes swimming with the magic that kept her heart moving, her black hair spiderwebbed across the sheets.  
"No, pondering reality, do not trouble yourself." He retorted looking back to the map, scratching his steel jaw.  
"Come now, I know when you're upset, come back to bed," She sat up in bed waiting for an order. "Besides, you need to sleep after all."  
"Argh!" His hand outstretched to slap her, but stopped moments before it landed, she smiled at him grabbing his mechanical hand.  
"I have told you before not to talk about that." His eyes awash with self hatred, for his still fleshy parts.  
"Does it matter? I love you, even if you have some flesh still inside." She rubbed his hand with her cheek, like a cat wanting to comfort her master. He ripped his hand away, she pouted at him in response.  
"Our feelings are unimportant at the moment." His self hatred subsided as his professionalism took over, looking over the map once more he tapped his chin, with a slender finger ending in sharp points. A knocking resounded on the wooden door, it sounded urgent.

"Reichsmarschall." A voice called to him on the other side of the door.  
"Give me a minute." He turned to Charity, and waved her away, she disappeared into the shadows as he opened the door.  
"Yes?" The Reichsmarschall opened the door to a young Leutnant dressed in the grey uniform of the General staff, he carried a scroll in his left hand.  
"New orders." The young man held out the scroll to the 12 foot tall half-mechanical man who looked upon him as if he was an insect.  
"I see, thank you." He took the scroll before slamming the door in the young man's face.  
"What does it say?" Charity asked across the room, now dressed in a black uniform with a red tie, her hair done into twin curled ponytails, a grin sweeping her face, waiting for orders. Cutting open the scroll sealed in purple wax, he unrolled it putting it under red light to read the message.

PREPARE TO ATTACK.  
HOLY EMPIRE IS HIDING THE TRAITOR  
-RETURN HIM ALIVE.-  
FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.

The Reichsmarschall burned the scroll with a candle, unable to control his laughter as he put on his white cape embroidered with gold, pushing open the door leading into the hall turning to look back at Charity.

"Der Krieg ist gekommen, und die Klänge seiner Glocken sind wunderschön." His mechanical laughter ringed the halls as his clawed metal feet clacked on the red marble surface, heading to prepare his hounds of war, a new trophy awaited for his collection, and he would gladly sip from the chalice of blood to obtain it.


End file.
